


Best of intentions

by Elisexyz



Series: Zombie Apocalypse AU [2]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Claustrophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 01:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16651639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: The math is simple, yet it takes all his self-control not to let go of her, even if he knows that she would run out of their hiding place and likely get eaten alive limb by limb. The picture is way too clear in his head, another person that he loves and that he couldn’t save, and that is probably the only thing giving him enough strength to secure his hold on Lucy andtrapher in a way that doesn’t allow enough room for movement or to make noise.





	Best of intentions

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for the "Claustrophobia" prompt [in my Bad Things Happen Bingo card on Tumblr](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/180212595839/claustrophobia-fill-for-the-bad-things-happen).  
>  It's a part of a zombie apocalypse AU that started with [this ficlet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15073736/chapters/35172917), but I think it can be read as a stand-alone.

His reaction streams from instinct: as they keep backing down, his arm pushing Lucy behind to make sure that she doesn’t stop retreating as he’s not looking, he quickly comes to realize that he doesn’t have nearly enough bullets to kill all the zombies approaching them, that even if he _tried_ it’d only attract more attention – which they obviously can’t afford – and that their only way out is buying enough time for Wyatt, Rufus and Jiya to realize that they didn’t make the rendezvous and come looking for them with more ammunition.

They have no choice but retreating in the room behind them, because there are zombies coming from each side of the hallway, and when Garcia spots a closet he doesn’t even have to think about grabbing Lucy’s arm and pulling her in with him, ignoring her yelp of surprise as he does so.

He closes the doors and tries to stay as still as possible, gun still in hand – if they were found, it probably wouldn’t save their skin, but maybe it’d buy Lucy enough time for the others to get there –, one arm around Lucy to keep her pressed against his chest.

At first, he thinks that her heavy breathing is only due to the fear and to their race to relative safety, and that she’ll calm down soon enough. Only she doesn’t, her laboured breaths sounding raspier by the minute.

“Lucy?” he whispers, in the dark, trying to keep his ears open to catch the moment the zombies will get in there.

“I—I need to— let me out—” she manages to get out, her voice thin as she shifts against him, trying to slip away.

His brain barely has the time to put together that she’s probably claustrophobic that he hears steps getting closer and closer.

“I can’t—” Lucy is saying, her voice getting a bit louder as she pushes more strongly to move forward.

Once again, he reacts out of instinct: he closes her mouth with his free hand and he pulls her closer to him in the same breath, retreating as far away from the doors as the small space allows him and squeezing his eyes shut when she starts struggling.

Her hands shoot up to try and get his hand off her mouth, and as she fights him with clear desperation he would only want to immediately let her go and apologize in every language he knows for the rest of his life, because he never wanted to hurt her, from the moment he decided that she was worth protecting even if it meant prolonging his suffering on this Earth he only wanted to keep her _safe_ — now he has to do one to accomplish the other. Shoot her in the knee so that she doesn’t get shot in the head.

The math is simple, yet it takes all his self-control not to let go of her, even if he knows that she would run out of their hiding place and likely get eaten alive limb by limb. The picture is way too clear in his head, another person that he loves and that he couldn’t save, and that is probably the only thing giving him enough strength to secure his hold on Lucy and _trap_ her in a way that doesn’t allow enough room for movement or to make noise.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I need you to be quiet,” he whispers, over and over, trying to cover the sound of her rasped breathing and suffocated hiccups.

The others do arrive, eventually.

Garcia jumps out of their hiding place to join the fight as soon as he hears Wyatt’s profuse curses at the sight of the amount of zombies hiding up there, careful to help Lucy into a sitting position when her knees buckle as soon as he’s let go of her.

He doesn’t look at her, focusing on not letting anything get close enough to scratch her, the sound of her struggle against him still echoing in his head, swallowing every other thought.

“Are you guys okay?” Rufus asks, as soon as they are clear and Wyatt is left stabbing the last zombie in the eye as Jiya closes the door to avoid any surprises. “Lucy?” Rufus adds, with a dubious look behind Garcia.

He steps away and he risks a glance in Lucy’s direction, knowing full well that he won’t like what he sees but unable to help himself, the need to make sure that she’s at least whole overriding his horror at what he’s done. What he finds is that she’s shaking like a leaf, curled on herself, tears on her cheeks as she tries to take a grip and control her breathing.

He thinks he might be sick.

“What happened?” Wyatt demands, looking back and forth between him and Lucy.

Garcia ignores him, raising his arm to stop Jiya as she approaches instead. “You drive her,” he announces, slapping the keys to his car in her hand. He doesn’t miss her confused frown, but he doesn’t hold her gaze and she’s quick to decide that getting to Lucy is the priority anyway, so she agrees without any complaint.

Garcia is the first to head out, checking the hallway and heading to retrieve the supplies that he and Lucy left behind during their flight. He’s the first to get to Wyatt’s car, positioning himself in the backseat and avoiding Lucy’s gaze as she and Jiya head for his car instead.

Wyatt and Rufus attempt to get him to explain what’s gotten into him that he would willingly abandon his post at Lucy’s side to get stuck in a car with them instead, but he gives them nothing to go on and eventually they let it go. For now, at least: they will probably try to get something out of Jiya or directly Lucy, later.

When they are back to the bunker, he goes to take a shower first before anyone can protest, because he desperately needs some _quiet_ , away from questioning gazes and Lucy’s red-rimmed eyes, just away.

He swallows back the urge to throw up, knowing that that could get some undesired attention if anyone were to walk by – that place is so damn _crowded_ , which is not a complaint that he’s supposed to have during a damn apocalypse where people die like flies –, and as soon as he’s out of the bathroom he heads to his room, assuming that Lucy would be with Jiya, or anywhere else but there.

Instead, she’s sitting on her bed, looking still a bit shaken but considerably less pale than before. She looks up to him as soon as he comes in and she opens her mouth to say something, but he’s faster.

“Shower’s free,” he says, drily, before grabbing a sweater and bolting out of the door.

He spends the rest of the day outside, watching the perimeter, and the only visit he gets is from Michelle, who promptly asks him if he’s done sulking and if he has any intention of helping her out with dinner – they are the two people with the best cooking skills in that bunker, and he finds her company close to enjoyable.

He takes a pass this time, and she doesn’t push, fortunately.

He goes back in when it’s already dark and he’s reasonably sure that everyone will be trying to get some shut-eye after this mess of a day. Sure enough, the couch is free and he can turn on the TV and prepare to destroy his back during the night – because there’s no way he’s going back his and Lucy’s room, not tonight, not after what he did to her; he needs to give her space.

He hears her delicate steps and he recognizes them without turning around, but he doesn’t acknowledge her, half-expecting that she’ll pour herself a glass of water and go away without even saying goodnight – it’s what she _should_ do, after all.

Lucy has never been particularly good at doing what he expects of her.

“Do you have any intention of going to sleep?” she asks, and this time he does turn, finding her in a comfortable hoodie, standing a few feet away from the couch.

“In a minute,” he lies. He knows that he’ll get used to it, that if he managed to learn how to drift to sleep after watching his family die he can find a way to swallow this new ball of guilt too, but maybe not tonight. And especially not on that couch.

Lucy doesn’t seem all that convinced, but she nods. “Okay,” she says, slowly. “Mind if I join?”

A bit, yeah. She shouldn’t _want_ to join him. She shouldn’t be able to look at him in the eye, the way _he_ can’t seem to hold her gaze for more than a moment. Yet, he shrugs. Maybe she wants to yell at him, or tell him just how much he fucked up. It’s her right, he won’t deny her that.

Lucy stays quiet for a while, the silence only filled by the sound of the movie that he hasn’t even been following and that’s still on, apparently.

Finally, she sighs. “Want to talk about it?” she asks.

He scoffs. “Shouldn’t I be asking that question?”

“I’m not the one who has been avoiding you all evening.”

“I was trying to do you a favour.”

“Did I ask for that?”

“You didn’t need to.”

Lucy snorts, shaking her head a little. “That’s a big assumption. And it’s rude not to let me thank you, you know.”

“ _Thank_ me?” he echoes, before he can stop himself, turning around with his torso. “Are we talking about the same thing here?”

“You saving our lives?” she suggests, drily, a slight challenging undertone in her words.

“Me—” he cuts himself off before he can find the words to _describe_ it. He isn’t sure he could stomach it if he tried. “You know what I did,” he finally says, quietly.

An heavy silence falls between them, and all of a sudden Lucy looks just as tired as he feels. She clenches her jaw, taking a deep, steadying breath. “Look,” she begins, quickly. “It was— I won’t lie, okay? It was terrifying. I was panicking, but— I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t done that.”

“That’s _why_ I did it,” he says, as if underlining it could make him feel any less guilty. “But I still get it if you— I wouldn’t expect you to want to be around me nonetheless.” He’s sure that with a bit of practice he can be content just watching over her from afar.

Lucy smiles a little. “I do want you around,” she says, simply. “I think— I actually think that it’d help _more_ if you just stopped avoiding me.”

He raises his eyebrows, sceptical.

“Are you going to run away if I try to use you as a pillow now?” she asks, with another smile.

He blinks at her, and when it registers in his head that she’s serious, he manages to shake his head, although he still doesn’t _get_ how she can be so calm about it. Lucy shifts closer, tugging herself under his arm like she’s done more than once before, her arm around his torso and her cheek pressed against his shoulder. He automatically squeezes her shoulders a little, and he feels her stiffing slightly against him.

“Sorry,” he immediately says, trying to withdraw, but Lucy grabs his sweater, keeping him in place.

“No, it’s fine,” she says, without letting go of him. “Please, it’s—it’s alright, really.”

He looks down on her, searching for a sign of a lie on her face, for a cue that he should insist on putting a stop to this because she’s only trying to be kind, but she looks as sincere as she’s ever been.

He nods. “Okay,” he says, quietly, trying to relax back against the couch. Her hold on his clothes lessens a little, and some tension leaves her shoulders. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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